


A Bridge Over Troubled Water Part 4

by livvels1012



Series: A Bridge Over Troubled Water [4]
Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluffy, Hurt/Comfort, MomGwen, dadvid, maxvid shippers dont interact, warning for child abuse mention, warning for child neglect mention, warning for drug mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-09-27 00:42:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20398858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livvels1012/pseuds/livvels1012
Summary: After sending the report to CPS, parental rights over Max are terminated and he's to be placed in a foster home at the end of the summer. Gwen makes an effort to investigate more about Max's parents and ends up uncovering a far darker history than she could have expected. David prepares for how he's going to spend his life when summer ends. In the mean time, Max struggles to handle the big changes and doubts his ability to adjust to them.





	1. Chapter 1

It was the third visit from his case worker, and Max didn’t feel any more delighted to see her than the first two fucking times. The first visit, David and Gwen had been allowed to stay with him for the initial interview. He hated that they would learn things he would rather keep hidden, but he knew that if they weren’t there, he would either say or do something stupid or just shut down all over again. 

  
He heard David say to her before Gwen walked him into the counselors cabin, where the meeting would be held,  _ “It’s easiest for him if he can keep his answers short.”  _ and he felt a twinge of appreciation at that.

  
  
They had surpassed icebreaker bullshit with the “tell me about yourself” and were going into the more probing questions. 

  
  
“How well do you feel fed at home?”

  
  
“Okay.”

  
  
“Just okay?”

  
  
“Uh...”

  
  
“On a scale of one to ten, Max, how often would you say you go hungry?”

  
  
“I don’t know,” he mumbled, staring down at his bear. Gwen tucked his hair behind his ear, a silent gesture to encourage him to try again. “Seven, maybe? Eight? I’m used to feeling hungry, it doesn’t really bother me.”

  
  
She wrote something down and he pulled his feet up on the chair so he could huddle his knees to his chest. He didn’t like that she was taking notes he couldn’t see. “And are you left alone for extended periods of time? Extended means--”

  
  
“I know what extended fucking means.”

  
  
“Max,” David said softly.

  
  
“It’s alright, Mr. Rowntree. I have heard far worse.”

  
  
“Don’t challenge him.” Gwen said.

  
  
Max completely put his head down at this point. He didn’t know where to start. His mother almost never went out, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t alone. He knew he was overthinking his answer  _ again,  _ but once he started he couldn’t stop. 

  
  
The social worker prompted him a few more times but it felt like tapping an aquarium tank. It didn’t do anything to draw him out, it just caused him to retreat deeper. Finally, she closed up her folder and pulled out another paper. “Let’s move on from that one.”

  
  
“Sorry,” Max whispered quietly, just loud enough for Gwen and David to hear. He couldn’t help but feel like he was screwing this up, after how hard they had tried to help him be ready for it. 

  
  
“It’s okay, kiddo. Don’t forget we’re right--” David began but the social worker cut him off. “Actually, I would ask the two of you leave for this part.”

  
  
“What?!” Max sat straight up, putting his feet back down onto the floor.  _ What the fuck? What the  _ ** _fuck? _ **

  
They had promised to be there. He looked up at them, watching David and Gwen exchange worried looks as Gwen withdrew her hand from his shoulder and David awkwardly stood up from where he had been sitting next to their camper. Max reached out and grabbed David’s wrist to try to tether him where he was. He was running on pure fight or flight. “Don’t go.” He wanted to sound angry, but he just sounded  _ scared  _ instead. “I don’t want to do this by myself, I won’t be  _ able  _ to…”

  
  
It felt like a betrayal when David pried his fingers open, however gentle he was about it. “I’m going to be right outside.” he said with a smile, and Max wanted to smack it off his face. “You don’t need to be tough, Max. Just tell her the truth. It’s okay if you get upset.”

  
  
“You said you’d fucking stay with me!”   
  
“Max, if I tell them to go, they don’t have a choice.” The social worker cut in. “Can you please sit back down?”

  
  
He slowly sank down in his chair again, but looked over his shoulder one more time before they were gone from his sight. 

* * *

  
  
David would rather shut his hand in a door than force Max to let him go, but he knew he had to do as the social worker said. He had to let her do her job. So, he opened Max’s fingers with ease to get his wrist free and stood just out of his reach so he couldn’t grab him again. How tiny his voice was when he begged him  _ don’t go.  _ It was just a punch in the stomach. 

  
  
He saw Max looking at him with the same wide, nervous eyes and David gave him his best encouraging smile before the door shut behind him. Now it was all he could think about. He should be there, helping Max to stay calm and feel safe. Or was that coddling him? What if he was being over protective? Was that why the social worker told them to go? Were they in the way of progress?

  
  
“Oh my god, you  **need ** to stop pacing.” Gwen stepped in front of him and grabbed him by his shoulders. He was so surprised, he accidentally kept walking for another two steps and she had to dig her feet in to avoid being just pushed along. “...Dude.”

  
  
“Sorry. I’m just  _ worried _ .”

  
  
“Yeah, I can fucking see that. So am I, but when he sees us again, we’re gonna be the picture of faith and calm. Part of this is getting an assessment of Max as an individual, and having us there is going to taint that. And we gotta let Max be Max, you know? He’s done really good so far.”

  
  
When he did take a moment to reflect, she was right. They gave Max a week of normalcy after sending the report, and it was the small things that spoke of his improvement. He wore the clothes David got him and for two days in a row, he tied his hoodie around his waist instead of wearing it normally. It was definitely a safety blanket of sorts, but maybe he felt like he didn’t need it as much. He was spending time with his friends, participating in activities more (in his own  _ disruptive  _ way but they would take what they could get) and seemed better rested. He did show up at the cabin two more times after a nightmare, but despite how upset he was each time, David found it more reassuring that Max wasn’t dealing with it alone. It was almost routine to put him to sleep now.

  
  
There was also a brief incident of him flawlessly right-hooking Preston but that was neither here nor there.

  
  
David leaned against the side of the cabin, and Gwen joined him. “So _ , _ I did something kind of shady.” she said.

  
  
“Why do you have to start like that?” he laughed nervously. 

  
  
“Because I want to lower your expectations so you don’t get too upset.”

  
  
“D-Did you break the law?”

  
  
“Nooo…” she said, averting her gaze and biting her lip in what she probably thought was an innocent manner. It just made him more suspicious. 

  
  
_ You can’t get out of this by being cute, Gwen. _ David was about to question her more, but then the cabin door opened and the two of them stood attention instantly. The social worker closed it behind her, no Max present and turned to face them with a confident smile. “Thank you for waiting. I just wanted to talk to Max about his experience here at camp, and thought it would be less biased if you weren’t present. I hope you weren’t offended.”

  
  
“Oh! No, not at all.” David felt a wave of relief. That Max could handle alone, it was at least easier than talking about home. 

  
  
“It’s just part of preparing the profile to give to his foster parents. The more than know about his immediate life before living with them, the better equipped they are. It’s clearly been very good for him emotionally. He spoke very highly of you, in his...own way.”

  
  
“How many f-bombs?” Gwen asked. 

  
  
“Oh, I didn’t count.” She said, tucking her folder under her arm. “I’ll see you two when I have news. In the meantime, you just keep doing whatever you’re doing. All things considered about his past, he’s very healthy and is in a better state of mind than we reasonably expected.”

  
  
David’s heart lifted. “You already found a home for him?”   
  


“Yes, here in Sleepy Peak. After he finishes his stay here for the summer, he’ll be moved in with them. You’re certain there’s no way to contact his parents? Every little bit helps.”

  
  
David was about to answer, but Gwen beat him to it with a hurried, “No, none. They’re total ghosts.”   
  


“Hm. Perhaps that’s for the best. Well, that concludes today. I’ll probably see you in the last two weeks of summer, best to let Max have a regular routine for a while.”

  
  
They said their polite goodbyes and David watched her walk away until the screen door creaked quietly and he looked down to see Max peeking out. “Is she gone?”

  
  
“All clear.” David opened the door wider and waited until Max stepped aside to let his counselors back in. The kid just went to his usual spot to sit down, which was always David’s chair and slouched deep into it. He could tell Max was upset or at least worried about something, and he leaned against the back of the chair. “Hey. What’s going on?”

  
  
“Nothing. Everything’s great.”

  
  
“If you say so. Can I sit with you?”

“I guess…”

  
  
Max scooted to the side to let his counselor sit next to him, but kept his head down and eyes forward. David bumped him gently with his arm, “Can you guess what I’m going to say?”

  
  
The boy rolled his eyes heavily and grumbled under his breath, “No pretending.”

  
  
“Exactly. So,  _ is  _ everything great?”

  
  
He watched Max’s expression go through micro changes, until he just unhappily leaned against David’s side. More often lately, he was initiating this kind of stuff. He hugged his counselors more often, usually when he was most upset, or held David’s hand when they walked the camp after his nightmares. He tugged on their hands or sleeves to get their attention, or like now, leaned against one of them when they sat together. So long as they didn’t question it or point it out, he was okay. David figured maybe now that he no longer had to hide so much from them, he felt like he didn’t have to distance them either. Whatever Max’s reasons, he was glad he felt safe enough to lower another boundary. It gave him hope he was going to be able to adjust to the changes to come.

  
  
“She said they’re a nice couple. They foster kids all the time, almost all of them get adopted…” Max said, his voice just barely audible as he picked idly at the skin around his fingers. 

  
  
“Don’t do that,” Gwen minded him from across the room. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

  
  
“Sorry.”

  
  
“It’s okay. What were you saying?”

  
  
He could tell Max was having trouble not committing his bed habit. David reached over and took one of his hands so he had something to do with it, a silent gesture that seemed to calm him down a little. But only that. “What if I fuck it up?”

  
  
_ Oh… _

_   
_ _   
_ “I’m not smart. Like, with school stuff.” he continued on miserably. “I got kicked out of four schools because I failed at  _ everything _ . I can’t fucking control what I say and half the time I can’t handle being around people or acting like a normal person...Everyone can tell I’m messed up in the head. They’re going to get sick of me and give me away, I fucking  __ know  it. And nobody is going to want me, so it will just happen over and over again.”

  
  
“You think because you didn’t pass tests or remember textbook bullshit, you aren’t smart?” Gwen asked, leaning against the back of the chair and poking him in the top of the head. “You’re the most perceptive, diabolical little genius I know. How could you focus on school with how things were at home?”

  
  
“She has a point, buddy.” David agreed, but he didn’t like how Max was just slouching more and more. “People don’t love their kids because they’re easy to take care of. If that was the case, my mom would’ve called a quits.”

  
  
“You were a problem child?” Gwen snorted, but he could see Max looking up at him with interest. Not lifting his head, just with his eyes. 

  
  
If this would get through to him, he was happy to try. “Do you know how many times she had the entire neighborhood looking for me because I followed a cat or a frog out of the yard? I got lost in the forest a few times, too. And I broke my collarbone twice climbing things I wasn’t supposed to, I kept bringing animals I ‘rescued’ into the house and I once flooded the basement trying to make my own ice rink. I was like...six.”

  
  
“Wow. You were a little asshole.”

  
  
“ _ My point is _ that you’re a good kid, Max. You aren’t defined by the bad things that happened to you and how they affect you now.”

  
  
“How can you fucking say that?”

  
  
Max yanked his hand away, and started to climb off the chair. “I don’t-- I’m not sure what you mean, kiddo.”

  
  
“That I’m a good kid! You, of all fucking people! After all the shit I’ve done to you-- _ both of you! _ It was my campaign to make your lives a living hell because I needed someone to take my shit out on! I’m a horrible friend, I’m selfish and so fucking broken that I don’t even know how to say thank you when--”

  
  
Max was reaching behind his neck, fidgeting his hand but David couldn’t see what he was doing. He didn’t know if he should hug him or even get close to him; it was hard to tell sometimes. It was either all Max wanted or it would send him downward spiraling. So he just stood up slowly and tried to calm him down in a soothing voice, “You aren’t  _ broken _ , Max. It’s okay, none of that matters--”

  
  
_ “Yes it fucking does!” _

He shouted it so loud, he seemed to startle himself as well as David.

__   
  
Gwen cut in, “Let’s say it did. How did it end?”

  
  
“What?”

  
  
“You made us your punching bags all summer, what did we do about it?”

  
  
He could see Max faltering. It was like watching a tea kettle boil over, screaming and spitting steam and heat, before Gwen simply turned the burner down and took away the source of the conflict. “You...you helped me.”

  
  
“Yep.”

  
“Why? I’m not worth it. You just did it because it’s your jobs.”

  
  
David cracked. He couldn’t listen to this anymore. He couldn’t stand how dead convinced Max sounded of his own words, and he closed the distance between them. Max tried to step back but he was pulled in for a hug before he could. “Goddammit, David! I’ll bite you! Don’t fucking test me! You know I don’t have my shots!”

  
  
He just ignored it. If Max really hated it, he would  _ actually  _ be trying to take a chunk out of his arm, not just yelling about it. He was just trying to think of what to say, what could possibly patch this wound. But it was so  _ grievous _ . How many years of wearing him down had it taken for it to get this bad? He was only ten. David didn’t know how to even start. But Gwen took the blunt route, as she came over and knelt down in front of Max, giving his cheek an affectionate poke. “We did it because we fucking love you, stupid.”   
  


Max went silent as the grave. David was worried it was too much, until the boy just looked up at him questioningly and he decided no, it was perfect. “She’s right,” he said with a smile. “And your foster family is going to love you, too.”

  
  
Max wasn’t hugging him back, but he wasn’t leaning away. This was how it was sometimes. “But what if they  _ don’t _ ? What if they get rid of me like-- like my mom did?” he asked, his voice still heavy with doubt.    
  


“Then they don’t deserve you.” Gwen said firmly. 

  
  
“And they weren’t the ones.” David added. “And you’re just one more step closer to finding them. But if you need to, I’m only going to be a few minutes or a phone call or text away.”

  
  
“But-- these are  _ good  _ people. That’s what the social worker said.” 

  
  
“I just mean if you start feeling like this again, or maybe they need a sitter or something.” David didn’t want Max going into a new home, fearing it would be anything like the last. And he wanted to trust it wasn’t going to be. If Max got his hopes up about a better life with decent guardians and then he ended up in a situation similar to his parents...David didn’t know if he would ever be able to heal from that. It might be the last thing to make Max a permanent nihilist.

  
  
Max shoved him away with a growl, “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  
  
“Kid-wrangler is my preferred term,” Gwen said, “You have the rest of the summer here, Max, you’re not going to them overnight. When the time comes, give them a chance to prove themselves. Can you do that?”

  
  
“...Fine.”

  
  
David walked Max out of the cabin but before he was able to leave, he stopped him. Max looked at him with narrowed eyes, “Jesus, what is it now?”

  
  
“I meant it. If anything is wrong, however small, you call me.”

_   
_ Max’s aggression fizzled out quickly, and he looked around camp awkwardly, trying to avoid his counselors eyes. “What if I can’t?”

  
  
“I’ll be checking on you. Maybe we can get ice cream on the weekends or something like that? It’ll be different, Max, I’ll know where you are. They can’t just hide you away.”   
  


“What about Gwen?”

  
  
“Well...she doesn’t live very close to here. But she’ll call you all the time, and we’ll find time for her to visit.”

  
  
The kid didn’t look very convinced, as he looked over his shoulder and spotted his friends waving at him from across the way. He just looked like he wanted to escape this conversation, but he was being held hostage. David decided he would just have to hope Max took his advice seriously, and would get help if he needed it, should it come to that again. “Go on. Go get into trouble.” he sighed, giving Max a gentle push on the back. “I’ll see you later on.”

  
  
Max didn’t utter another word as he walked away, dragging his feet until he had caught up with Neil and Nikki. He wondered if Max was telling them what was going on, if they even knew or understood the situation. 

  
  
He was distracted when his phone started to ring and he took it out of his pocket, glancing at the number. He didn’t recognize it, but it was a Sleepy Peak area code. 

  
  
“David Rowntree speaking,” he answered politely, as he headed back into the counselors cabin. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forewarning for all of you, this chapter will allude to some darker themes, including an underage relationship (teenage mother situation). Nothing graphic but I wanted anyone sensitive to that sort of thing to have a heads up, however vague/brief the mention is. Love you all, read safely! I'm also plotting some AU's for in the future, if anyone is curious or wants to help me brainstorm/pitch things, hmu at my tumblr! livvels1012

“It’s just a job interview for when the summer is done. I’ll be back later tonight.”    
  
Max kept glaring at the ground as Gwen double checked she had everything in her purse. She was trying to appear outwardly calm as she lied to him through her teeth, and tried not to focus on the fact that the two of them were very good at knowing when the other was doing that. David was just making his bed behind them, making sure the covers were perfectly set without wrinkles. She literally never even bothered to fix her pillowcase when it got twisted around.    
  
“You’re going to leave me alone with that?” Max demanded, pointing at David, who looked up, knowing ‘that’ referred to him.    
  
It had been a rocky two weeks for Max. Now it was almost routine. Every other night, he came tapping on the cabin door with the most miserable and heartbroken face to crawl into David’s bed for protection against his nightmares. It got to a point where they stayed up to expect him half the time. Mostly, Max didn’t say anything. He just tried to go straight back to sleep, and Gwen usually pretended to not be awake when he came in. But she heard him quietly ask David two, maybe three times to “sing the Gaelic song” or to tell him another constellation story. Those were the night when he was most upset.    
  
Max wouldn’t be living more than fifteen minutes from David, but as the end of the summer drew ever closer, it seemed his state of mind was becoming progressively more tenuous. Gwen just wanted to do her best to get his mind off of it, but she knew it was easier said than done.    
  
“I’m just--” he started with an anguished tone. “I’m...I’m gonna be so bored while you’re gone.”   
  
“It’s one day. Here, surprise for ya.” She reached into her desk and produced a newly repaired phone, with a pine tree sticker. “Courtesy of Neil, absolutely no sentient modifications. If you’re really that miserable, text me.”   
  
Max took the phone, still not looking happy but he didn’t argue with her anymore. He just unzipped the new pocket Mr. Honeynuts was equipped with after David repaired him and put the phone inside, then zipped it shut. “Fine. Don’t drive off a cliff or whatever.”   
  
“ _ Oof _ , I don’t know. That’s so tempting.”   
  
Max cracked a teeny tiny smile and she mussed up his hair some more, “You’re in charge while I’m gone, Satan.”   
  
She stood up straight to walk away but stopped and looked down as two little arms encircled her. It was a record breaking two seconds it lasted before Max let her go and turned his back on her. And David was making the stupidest fucking face. Feeling all warm and fuzzy, Gwen waved him to follow her as she headed out to his car. He was lending it to her and she didn’t trust it to start if anyone but him messed with it.   
  
  


* * *

  
  
It was a long ass drive to the Portland area. David finished making sure the car started, since he had the magic touch and stepped out of the car with a goofy smile. “It’s all yours, Gwenny.”   
  
“You’re in a remarkably good mood, even for you.” she said, tossing her purse into the passenger seat. Even with how rough things were with Max, David seemed less affected by it but rather more confident in how to handle it.    
  
She watched him fidget and bounce on his feet, waiting until he obviously couldn’t hold in whatever secret it was any more. “Well, I guess now that it’s official, there’s no harm in telling anyone.”   
  
“Now that what’s official?”   
  
“You know Crossroads Elementary, in town? I applied for a position there before the summer and they called me a little while ago.”   
  
Gwen felt just a hint of giddy hope. David mostly did whatever grunt job he could find during the year. He was a college graduate, he had a degree for teaching music which was what he always wanted to do but that job market was tough. “...No fucking way. You got it?”   
  
He nodded, smiling wider. She could see how overjoyed he was and wondered how he, the bubbliest person she knew, possibly could have kept a lid on this news for more than ten minutes. He probably wanted to focus on other things, but Gwen wasn’t having it. She was thrilled for David, he  _ deserved  _ this and she had no doubt it was his calling. “You’re a teacher,” she said it just to confirm it out loud and he let out a breathless, “Yeah, I am!”   
  
“You’re a teacher! Holy shit, Dave, that’s amazing!” She didn’t care if it was over the top, she just threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly, feeling him almost go over with the force of it. Then he surprised her by wrapping his arms around her waist and spinning her around once, laughing as he set her back down on her feet. “I-I didn’t think I’d get it…”   
  
“That’s the district Max will be living in, right? Can he be enrolled there?”   
  
“Uh, actually, he might have to be home schooled for a bit. He has a lot to catch up on. But we’ll talk about it when you get back.” David smiled down at her, and she couldn’t help but return it. It was infectious. She lingered for a bit, resting her arms comfortably around his neck. She could feel warm weight of his palms against her waist still.    
  
He must have realized at the same time she did that what they were doing and he stepped back as she did. He coughed awkwardly, running a hand through his hair and stepping out of her way so she could get into the car. “Can you, um, call me when you’re on your way back?”   
  
Gwen shut the door but kept the window rolled down so he could hear her. “S-sure.”   
  
“Be safe, okay?”   
  
“I will be.”   
  
That was what she had told him, but she didn’t know how confidently she did. The truth was, she had no idea what she was thinking when two and a half weeks ago, she sat down and wrote a letter by hand. She knew some people in Portland, online friends, who were willing to deliver it for her to the place that she sent it to, just to make sure it didn’t end up read by the wrong person. That was the most important thing, that the  _ only  _ person who saw it was who it was addressed to. It was a careful project.    
  
She had no idea what the hell she had done until she got a letter back, asking to meet in person. Just those words. “ _ Please let us talk. _ ” And an address enclosed with it.   
  
Gwen followed the GPS to the address given, and pulled into the nearest parking spot. It was the outskirts of the city, in the wealthier suburbs, with the appeal of a small town but without actually being one, and the address had taken to her to some rundown little coffee shop.    
  
God, she wanted a smoke so badly. But she promised David. She couldn’t even if she wanted to, because she had thrown them all away just as he had asked her.   
  
Gwen got out of the car and locked it, taking a look around before she headed inside. The place was relatively busy but not loud, and she realized why it was chosen. It was discreet. Gwen scanned the various tables until she spotted one in the far corner. 

A woman about her age, dark brown skin, a modest white dress and her curly black hair framing her face, parted at the side and almost reaching her shoulders with a little gold pin that held her fringe out of her eyes. She was sitting over a cup of coffee that looked untouched, and was tapping her fingers on it anxiously before she began to pick at her nails and cuticles.    
  
Is that where Max got that shitty habit?   
  
Gwen walked up to her, her shoes clicking sharply on the floor just under the coffee house chatter. She didn’t want to storm up, but she strode with  **intent ** up to the table and sat down without an introduction. She was absolutely certain it was her.   
  
“Rishima?”   
  
It was fucking  _ unnerving  _ how much Max resembled her. Same rounded face and cool jade green eyes, same wavy dark hair. It was unreal that she was really in front of Gwen in person, this boogeyman figure who just looked like some delicate 50’s housewife stereotype. Gwen had expected someone more sinister, but she was just a scrawny girl the same age as her, looking like she wanted to appear as small as possible, if not disappear entirely. “Yes?” she replied, her voice as dainty as she looked.   
  
“I’m Gwen.” she introduced herself curtly. She stared Rishima down until the other woman just looked down at her coffee again until she asked timidly, “Would you like a coffee?” And Gwen could hear her faded but still defined Indian accent.    
  
“Not if you’re paying.”   
  
“I...I understand.”   
  
“Oh,  _ do  _ you now?”   
  
“You know my son? Maximos?”   
  
_ That can’t seriously be his full name.  _ “Yeah. I know your  _ son _ . We’re pretty close. I’ve been one of the people taking care of him for two fucking months. You want to know what that’s like?” Gwen had rehearsed this, but she was going off script. She  **hated ** this woman. She hated that she pitied her, when Max was the one who suffered the most for whatever her problem was.    
  
Rishima stammered as she sat back in her seat, further away from Gwen’s wrath but there was no getting away from it. Gwen just went full steam ahead. “I make sure he eats his breakfast, I put band aids on his knees, I buy him shoes when he needs them and give him fucking hot chocolate and stay up late with him when he’s sad. I stayed at his bedside while he was in the goddamn hospital almost  _ dying-- _ ”   
  
“He was in the hospital?”   
  
Gwen didn’t believe the horror in her voice for a second. She thought it was an act at first, but her reaction had a genuinity to it that caught Gwen off guard. But all bets were off, now that she finally had a target for her rage and she wasn’t stopping now. “Yeah, Rishima, he was in the hospital. He cut his foot and because you two morons didn’t get him a tetanus shot, he was there for over a week in excruciating pain, crying for  _ you _ .” Gwen was shaking with anger, after having bottled it up for so long. She kept hearing Max asking for his mother those terrible first nights as the fever overwhelmed him, when he wouldn’t accept pain medication and cried himself out until he was able to sleep. “And we couldn’t call you. Why didn’t you leave a number? An emergency contact? Didn’t you give a damn if something happened to him? Because things  _ have  _ happened! I could be here to tell you that you don’t  **have ** a son anymore.”   
  
By then, Max’s mother had her elbows on the table and face in her hands. Gwen waited for her to say something, anything, as Rishima avoided her gaze. And then she finally said very softly, “I would like to buy you a coffee, Gwen. Please.”   
  
Gwen let her order a mocha for her, but she let it grow cold in front of her as she did her best to bore a gaze into Rishima’s face. It was a long time before the silence was broken, as the woman nervously asked, “I-I have pictures of Max, would you like to see?”   
  
Gwen did want to see them, actually. “Uh-- sure.”   
  
Rishima reached into her purse and took out a bundle of beat up photographs. She set them on the table with shaking fingers and as she leaned in, her sleeve pushed up. Gwen could see discolored spots on the inside of her arm. She recognized them as precise, repeated puncture wounds or scars, from someone abusing a vein.   
  
That had to be it. That was why Max hated the I.V, that was why he refused anything for the pain and why he hated taking the antibiotics so much. He already had a bad idea about anything that game from a needle or altered someone chemically.    
  
Gwen took the first picture and glanced down at it. She had no idea what to make of this one; it looked like something made by special effects, not by two human people.    
  
“He doesn’t look real, does he?” Rishima said. “That’s what I thought.”   
  
“This is  _ Max? _ ”   
  
“Yes. One week old.”   
  
He was so unbelievably tiny and frail looking, and too skinny for a newborn baby. He had a little blue hat, but no onesie, since he appeared to have a heart monitor adhered to his little chest, and some kind of respiratory support over his face that resembled a smaller, more complicated oxygen mask. David said most premature babies grew up normal, but she just doubted it. Looking at how hard the beginning of his life was and everything that followed up after, Gwen dreaded that Max might never really recover. 

“It was my fault, you know.” Rishima whispered.   
  
Gwen hadn’t expected to hear her admit any blame. Rishima looked over the other photos, with an expression she couldn’t read. There wasn’t...affection. But there was guilt. “I never wanted him.”   
  
“That’s a fucking horrible thing to say!”   
  
“I know. But it’s true. I never wanted to be a mother, I never wanted a baby but Sunil-- that was  _ all  _ he wanted. I was a stupid girl who let a powerful old man trick me into thinking he meant it when he said he loved me. He got me to give up school and my life in India for him. I was completely his, and I didn’t know it until it was too late to leave. He said he would let me after the baby was born, if I still wanted to go.”   
  
“How old were you?” Gwen dared to ask. She wanted to know just how deep this screwed up story ran.   
  
“When I had Maximos? Sixteen.”   
  
_ How did anyone just  _ ** _let _ ** _ this shit happen? _   
  
She let Gwen look over the rest of the pictures. If she had to guess, they were between newborn to two years. By year one, he had a full head of black hair, just like he did now and was going to town on a teething toy. And around age two, he had Mr. Honeynuts and was holding the bear by the arms, trying to teach it to walk, which he had likely just mastered. That was Gwen’s favorite, and that was what made her choke up. He looked so sweet, and was just a  _ baby.  _ Just playing and pretending, like he had no idea anything bad would ever happen. “How could you not love him?” She asked.   
  
“I tried to.” Rishima admitted, “It wasn’t his fault who his father was. I really did try. In a way, we only had each other and it was my fault how much he suffered when he was born, I wanted to make it up to him but…”   
  
“You mean being premature? How was it your fault?”   


“I...I just wanted to forget what was happening. And I found a way to do that.”   
  
“What did you take, Rishima?”   
  
“Things for pain. Morphine...Heroin after a while.”   
  
“While you were _ pregnant?” _ _   
_   
Rishima nodded and put her face in her hands again, and Gwen almost felt bad for her. What was it like? Being a teenage girl manipulated and then used? She didn’t start out a monster. She was made that way by the original, and Gwen didn’t know if she could have coped either. It sounded like a nightmare, but there wasn’t an option to wake up. “I took too much. I went into labor too early and they couldn’t stop it. Sunil wanted a perfect baby, and he wasn’t perfect. At first, he just ignored him and it was fine, but then he started…”   
  
“He started hitting Max. We know. We’ve seen.” Gwen had finally seen the picture. She had to leave the cabin; she didn’t want David see her reaction.   
  
“No, it was more than that! Sunil never does anything without a reason, he always has some kind of  _ plan _ . He thought he could fix Max, by-- by breaking him down and remaking him.”   
  
_ What the  _ ** _fuck _ ** _ is wrong with these people?! _ _   
_ _   
_ “But Max wasn’t-- he couldn’t remember the things he was being taught, he couldn’t handle Sunil’s expectations of perfection. And every time he disappointed him, Sunil just found a way to be crueler. If something wasn’t done…” She didn’t finish the sentence. She took a deep breath and looked Gwen in the eyes for the first time. They were so piercing in their color and intensity, Gwen felt physically unable to blink or avert her own. “So I sent him away, and I didn’t want him to be able to come back or for Sunil to find him. That’s why there’s no numbers or addresses or anything for him. The fact of the matter is that he was safer that way.”   
“Why didn’t you call the police? Or do it sooner, at somewhere that made more  _ sense _ , like a fire station?” Gwen demanded, appalled. Maybe this woman just wasn’t wired right.    
  
“You don’t understand, Sunil is  _ Father  _ Sunil. He’s a pillar in the community, anyone would recognize his son and nobody would believe he was capable of hurting us. And-- and I’m not...I’m not in this country  _ legally _ . I don’t have much money besides what Sunil gives me.”   
  
_ So she’s completely dependent on Sunil. He’s not just a sadist, he’s a smart one. Fucking great _ . Gwen put the picture down with a snap. “So you’re abandoning him.” she deadpanned. She didn't want her to keep Max, but somehow it just made things worse that she was just giving up. That she didn’t try anything else, she just went straight to the worst case scenario. “ Why did you want to talk to me, Rishima? I’m not really getting a sense you want to be penpals.”   
  
She watched Rishima look around the shop without turning her body, a very discreet motion and it made Gwen give a glance around as well. She was just studying the door when Rishima spoke again, “I wanted to  _ warn  _ you, Gwen.”   
  
“ ‘Scuse me?” Gwen looked back at her sharply. “Warn me about _ what? _ ”   
  
“Whether or not Sunil loves Maximos is beside the point. Max is his heir, and he won’t abide being insulted by someone taking him away.”   
  
“What is this, medieval Europe? Heir to what?”   
  
“The church.” Rishima answered simply. “Whatever happens to Maximos now, if he finds a new family and is happy, it won’t matter if they find him. They will take him back and there will not be a second chance for freedom.”   
  
Gwen felt a prickle on her neck and resisted the urge to look over her shoulder. She couldn’t but feel less and less safe in this place she had never been, where no one knew her and so none of them would know if something had happened. She always got a bad vibe from everything about Sunil, his supposed clergy life with no identifying characteristics to what religion he preached and how closed off the community that followed him was. There was a nagging voice that she strained to hear clearly, but she just hadn’t cracked whatever was bothering her yet. She only knew she was missing something to the puzzle.   
  
She watched Rishima grow quiet, and then slowly start to stand up, but Gwen got up quicker and stepped in front of her.  _ This shit has got to end. _ “Rishima, my car is right outside. If you come with me now, nobody could stop us. I can get you away from your husband, we can  _ help  _ you. Maybe you and Max would have a chance! I can tell you love him--”   
  
“Please let me pass, Gwen.”   
  
“What is Sunil going to do when he finds out what you’ve done?”   
  
“It doesn’t matter now.”   
  
She had misunderstood her. Rishima was no saint, but she was a prisoner like Max had been. And she was trying to get Max out. She was trying to  _ save  _ him, however much she had fucked up, Gwen could see that. She reached out and took her hand, and Rishima flinched but Gwen wasn’t letting go, even if people were looking. “Don’t throw your life away for a piece of shit of a guy. You have a son that loves you despite all the shit he’s been put through. I don’t know if you can get custody of him back, but you could at least be able to visit. Help him understand that you aren’t giving him away because you hate him!”   
  
“I  _ don’t  _ hate him!”   
  
“Well, he’s dead certain you do!”   
  
_ “He’s better off without me!”  _ _   
_   
Okay, now everyone was really staring. Gwen let her hand go, as Rishima wrapped her arms around herself. She awkwardly picked up their purses and began to guide her out of the coffee shop and Rishima let her steer them around the corner of the building into a more private space. She watched her lean against the wall and try to choke back her tears, clutching the picture of newborn Max and crumpling it as she did. “I just want him to be happy,” she whispered brokenly. “To be safe. He’s never been those things. I never gave them to him, I  _ can’t _ . I love him but it’s not enough, he just never felt like he was mine and I wanted him to be so  _ badly _ . I never knew how to soothe him to sleep, I still don’t know what to say when he cries or…”   
  
“You were young,” Gwen interrupted her, keeping her voice soft and quiet. “You had no idea how to be a mom. And how could you learn?”   
  
“I hurt him. I didn’t mean to…”   
  
“Rishima, I’m not here to absolve you. I’m here because I love Max, and I wanted to know what the best thing to do for him is. I can’t force you to leave Sunil, and I won’t start a bunch of shit that could get you in a worse place than you are. But you know where Max is and-- and here, I’ll give you my number.”   
  
“Oh, I-I don’t have a phone.”   
  
_ Weird _ . “Email?”   
  
“No internet. Our church rejects such things.”   
  
_ Weirder _ . Gwen took out her phone and scrolled through her photos, then gently put a hand on Rishima’s shoulder. “Hey. Do you want to see him?”   
  
She sniffled and slowly turned around huddling her hands over her heart as she looked over. Gwen had compiled some more pictures of Max at camp, with his friends, smiling as he was walking and talking with David, the picture from the nature hike. “We were telling him stories, and he fell asleep. That’s David, my co-counselor. He’s been Max’s biggest fan since day one.” She explained.   
  
“He’s smiling so much,” Rishima said breathlessly, clearly unable to believe it.    
  
“Yeah. It took him a bit to open up to us, but he and David are pretty close now. He’s happy, Rishima, when he can be...When is his birthday?”   
  
She looked up at Gwen, as she handed her phone back to her. “N-November eighteenth.”   
  
“Is there anything you want me to tell him?”   
  
“No...No, I just want him to move on and forget.”   
  
“Rishima.” Gwen hardened her tone. “He’s  **never ** going to forget. Are you sure there’s nothing else to say?”   
  
She watched Rishima think about it until she looked down and asked in the smallest, softest voice, “May I send you another letter if I change my mind?”   
  
“Sure. But I might not give it to him.”   
  


* * *

  
  
Gwen drove back to Sleepy Peak in a daze, along dark back country roads and long lonely highways. She was reeling from the experience. Rishima was everything she had feared and nothing she expected, and she had gained a new insight to what Max’s childhood must have been like. Being raised by what was essentially _another _mistreated child, who then was never able to grow and step up to the task of motherhood. Gwen resented her for taking part in traumatizing him. And she resented that at the same time, she felt bad for Rishima and wanted to help her.  
  
If it was her kid, Gwen thought-- no, she knew she would fight tooth and nail for them. And nothing could stop her.  
  
Or could it?  
  
She had never been through anything like what Rishima had been. She’d had shitty boyfriends but it never got too far. Truth was, when she looked at Max’s mother, she saw the potential of someone’s spirit just **breaking**. Is that what would have happened to Max if he had been there much longer?  Just who the **hell **was his father? 

  
Gwen was ready to drop when she got back to camp, but she saw in the counselor cabin windows that David had his desk lamp on. Gwen quietly stepped inside, feeling ready to burst and just tell him everything that had happened. She just wanted David to do the magical thing where he found the right word or touch to make it all bearable again, but her gaze focused first on his bed.    
  
“Hey...Sorry, I forgot to call. Another nightmare?” She asked in a whisper, not wanting to wake Max, who seemed sound asleep and tucked into David’s bed yet again. David was going through what looked like paper work on his desk, and he glanced up with a weary smile. She knew he had been worried, and felt a jab of guilt for it. “It’s okay, Gwen. He’s been asleep for almost an hour. How’d it go?”   
  
She stupidly hesitated, and it gave her away. He was already putting down his pen, “...Not good?”   
  
Gwen shook her head no, and David instantly began to put away his project. “You want to go talk out front?”   
  
She dumped her stuff on her bed and went back outside, sitting down on the front porch and taking her hair out of its ponytail. She ruffled her hands through it with a groan, rubbing her fingers into her scalp but it didn’t ease her headache much. David came out shortly after, dragging the comforter from her bed and he plunked down next to her and put it around the two of them. “You should wear a sweater. It’s getting colder, you know.”   
  
“Yeah, yeah.” she muttered but it was starting to get chilly at night, and she was grateful for it.    
  
“Are you finally going to tell me what the mysterious Gwen has been up to lately?”   
  
“The mysterious Gwen,” she repeated, reaching into her pocket and producing a folded paper. He just leaned his cheek in his hand, elbow on his knee and smiled at her expectantly.  _ Goofball.  _ Without a word, she handed the paper to him and he took it. “What’s this?” he asked, unfolding it.    
  
Rishima had let her keep one of the pictures. The one with Max playing with Mr. Honeynuts. She saw David’s features shift at first to surprise, then a little happiness and then a mixture of confusion and suspicion. He flipped it over to read the other side. _Max_ _ , 2 years _ _ .  _ “Where did you get this?”   
  
“He’s pretty cute, right? Look how round his cheeks are. I’m gonna start calling him hamster or something.”   
  
“ _ Where _ , Gwen?”   
  
He didn’t sound angry, just a little scared. She looked straight ahead, where the stars reflected slivers of silver light on the lake and the swaying shadows of the trees covered the landscape beyond. “Max’s mom…”   
  
And she told him everything. Every chilling truth she had learned, the kind of woman Max’s mother was. That she was young and an addict and way in over her head, that she never stood a chance and neither did her son. That it was her that signed Max up for camp and sent him away without means of getting in touch with his parents, because that had been the goal all along. And the whole time, he was pretty quiet except for the few clarification questions.   
  
“Break him down and remake him. That’s exactly what she said, David. Max’s dad is a  _ fucking madman.  _ And he has money and blind religious devotion to protect him.” she twisted a patch of the blanket in her hands, gripping it so tight that her knuckles were turning white. “She told me that if he or his church of what I assume are  _ lunatics  _ found Max, it would be over for him. I don’t know if she meant they would kidnap him or worse, but…”   
  
“So that’s why she didn’t leave any information with him. God,” David put his face down in his hands, “What are we going to tell him?”   
  
Gwen did a double take. He wasn’t serious, right? “We aren’t telling him  _ shit!” _ _   
_ _   
_ “He’s asked me half a dozen times why he was left here! Maybe if he knew his mom did it to try to  _ save  _ him--”   
  
“Then he might run away and try to go back to her, or he might be even more confused or it’ll just be another thing that breaks his heart. I’m not fucking doing it, David. I wish I could help Rishima and I wish I could wave a magic wand and make her capable of loving him properly and they can be a happy family, but it just isn’t going to happen. She needs a lot of help herself. I don’t think she’s a monster, but she’s no mother and Max...I think she was right. I think maybe he is better off without her, with a fresh start with good people.”   
  
“So we hide the truth from him? You know if he found out, he might never forgive us.”   
  
“Just because he hates us for doing it doesn’t mean it’s the wrong call.”   
  
That seemed to touch a nerve with David, as he huffed a little and looked away from her, his jaw set tightly. He silently handed the picture back to her, and Gwen put it away. She thought about if it would be weird to keep it in her wallet or something. “David--”   
  
“I won’t tell Max.” he said, his voice barely audible. “And I get it, Gwen...I’m just scared for him.”   
  
Gwen pulled her knees up to her chest with a shiver, and adjusted the blanket. “Me, too.”   
  
Silence hung between them, and the blanket shifted slightly and Gwen felt a new weight on her shoulders as her friend put his arm around her. Her heart thumped a little harder. She was trying her best to not think about how he smelled like fresh cedar and faint campfire smoke. And something sweet. Apples, maybe? Gwen decided to just lean into it and rested her head against the crook of his neck with an exhausted sigh. She needed this, they both did.   
  
They sat there for a while, and it wasn’t as awkward as she expected. But in perfect sync, they both lifted their heads and looked through the screen door when they heard a plaintive sound. Unmistakably Max’s voice, and they both got up right away, but Gwen was the first inside.   
  
First off, he was still asleep and that was a relief. But he was flinching in his sleep. His arms jerked and his face was tensing up, and he occasionally made some kind of frightened noise or almost said something but it was never defined. David began to say, “Max, it’s just a--” but Gwen hushed him instinctively. She understood why he might try to wake him, but she wanted to try something else first if they could.   
  
So he waited patiently as she sat down on the edge of the bed and just laid her hand on Max’s forehead, smoothing his hair and gently petting his cheek. Something her mom did. Letting her know she was there in the smallest but most meaningful way. She was terrified it wouldn’t work, that she didn’t have that same magical touch her mom did but then Max began to grow quiet. And then he was laying still again, breathing normally.    
  
Then he smiled the tiniest smile in his sleep and Gwen felt like her heart was going to burst, it was so full.  _ Holy shit, I did it!  _ If only she could add it to the wall of victories. He slowly rolled over and curled up around his teddy bear, and Gwen adjusted his quilt around him. Then, just a spur of the moment, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple.    
  
“Awww…”   
  
“Shut up, David.”


	3. Chapter 3

Max kept curling and uncurling his fingers into a tight fist, trying to get his hand to stop shaking. He hated this. Max thought that if anything, he should have more control over his anxiety now that there was truly a movement to protect him. He wasn’t going back, his father couldn’t hurt him anymore and he would get to stay close to David.    
  
But Gwen didn’t live in Sleepy Peak. She didn’t even live in Oregon, she was from northern California and when summer ended, she would  _ leave.  _ It wasn’t that Max thought she would just ditch him, he knew better now. She would make as much effort to call and text him, even visit if she could during the spare moments of her busy overworked young adult life. But it wouldn’t be the same. He couldn’t just walk across the yard to come knocking on her door when he needed her. She couldn’t hold his hands and remind him in person how to breathe when he fucking broke down in another episode.   
  
And the idea of losing that safety net, of realizing he was walking straight into a life he had never lived before where his carefully constructed defenses couldn’t apply and he had no idea what to expect just had Max reeling.    
  
“You do realize it’s a screen door, right? I can see you.”

“Shit.”   
  
He didn’t want to just walk away and give up. She would probably come after him later on or worse, send David to check on him and that was fine. It was comforting to know they wouldn’t just brush him off, that they cared enough to follow up when something was going on. What Max worried about was lacking the bravery to go to them in the first place from now on. He wanted to stop being  _ scared.  _   
  
He pulled open the screen door, the same note that it creaked with memorized in his ears. It was always the same. Gwen was writing in her journal, which she quickly closed and shoved into her desk when he came in. Normally he would’ve have something to say, some underhanded taunt but that wasn’t why he was here. He looked around, and noticed there was a duffel bag on her bed, and some half folded clothes beside it.    
  
That hurt a little bit. She was already packing. Maybe not because she couldn’t wait to go, but just because she was organized. Still, Max didn’t like seeing the beginning of what felt like the end.    
  
“Hey,” Gwen interrupted his thoughts and he turned towards her, but didn’t look up. “What’s going on? Still worried?”   
  
Worried was an understatement. Max shrugged silently, but willingly obeyed when she gestured for him to move closer to her. He didn’t even protest as Gwen picked him up and set him down on her desk, where he normally sat when they talked. Or argued. Or he got caught snooping and she lectured him. But it made him feel better to be more at her level, rather than looking up at her. He swung his feet idly and started to pick at his fingers again, scratching at the cuticle of his thumb before she reached over and stopped him. “Max.”   
  
“I don’t know what I’m going to do when you’re gone.” he blurted it out quietly, but it was the truth and he felt it more sharply than ever. From the start, Gwen had tried to look out for him, even if he didn’t see it. But differently than David did.   
  
She called him out on his shit. She pushed him to look at himself and his actions objectively, challenged his perception of himself and it was that contest of wills that pushed him to want to be better. It was a different way of being told to prove himself, that lifted him up rather than put him down, unlike the only other force of rigid order he had known. Gwen commanded respect, not fear.    
  
He could feel her eyes on him, as she opened her desk drawer and pulled out a book, but it had no title. It had a little latch with a lock and a tiny key hanging off the spine that she used to open it. It resembled her journal, with a bound cover and lined blank pages that she thumbed through for a moment. “Gwen?”    
  
“This is for you,” she said, snapping it shut and offering it to him.    
  
“You’re...giving me a diary?” he asked flatly, and took it when she jabbed him in the chest with it.  _ What am I supposed to with this? _ _   
_ _   
_ “I started keeping journals when I was a little older than you. They were my way to talk about what was going on with me, what I needed to get out without giving up my privacy. They let me get out of my own head. Max, I function in a mixture of self-help, medication and therapy. It’s different for everyone. Maybe it will help you, I don’t know.” Gwen reached over and touched her fingers under his chin, gently guiding him to look at her and he did. He wondered about her. What were her parents like? How did she grow up? Did something happen to make her need these things to get by or was it just how she was wired?   
  
All he knew was that if he didn’t have her guidance, he’d be more of a wreck than he already was. “What if it doesn’t? Can’t I just…” he trailed off.   
  
“Can’t you what?”   
  
“...go to California with you…”   
  
“ _ Jesus _ , Max.”   
  
“I’m sorry! I know it’s fucking stupid.” his eyes stung and he dug his fingernails into the soft faux leather cover of the journal. She had enough problems, and her own life. Of course she wouldn’t want him.    
  
“Hey, if I could steal you and get away with it, I would. At least my life wouldn’t be boring ever again. But I work and go to school full time, Max, and I don’t even have a space for you to sleep and I’m a piece of work on my own. I’d be the  _ worst  _ foster mom.”   
  
“No, you wouldn’t.” he mumbled. He didn’t believe that, not one bit. “You’d kick ass. I wouldn’t even really need you to take care of me, I can make my own food and put myself to sleep and--”   
  
“If you did live with me, I’d want to make you lunch and say good night to you and pick you up from school. But I wouldn’t be able to do those things, and that’s why it can’t happen. It wouldn’t be fair to you. The whole point is that you get to be the kid now!”   
  
_ “But I don’t know how to fucking do that! _ ”   
  
When he shouted it, he chucked the book onto the floor in his rage and as he glared down at it, he felt like throwing something else. He wanted to just scream and tear down and break everything around him, but Gwen’s hand on his back instead made him close his eyes and  _ breathe.  _ “Pick it up. I have an idea.” She said, giving him a pat.    
  
Confused but trusting her, he did and they sat together as she turned to the first few inside pages. She helped write down the things she had taught him. The four, seven, eight breathing method, how to remember to be present in the moment and a new one called HALT. Asking himself if he was hungry, angry, lonely or tired. It would help him learn what upset him in particular. She also wrote down some advice for him when he was having a hard time. That he had two options, to de-isolate himself or take a time out when he was feeling destructive. To crumple up paper or yell into a pillow to get it out of his system. Things she had told him to try before and that did help, but now he would have something tangible to remind him while she was away.   
  
“You can always use these. And if they don’t work, it’s okay. That’s how you find out what does, by trying all the tools you can.” she said, flipping to a new page. “But I’m going to give you a little project, and I want you to do your best to finish it. For me, okay?”   
  
“What  __ kind  of project?”   
  
“A self-improvement to do list.”   
  
On paper it didn’t sound too difficult, but it was like being asked to turn himself inside out.   
  
1\. Give yourself one compliment every morning.  
2\. Say something nice to a stranger at least once a day, if opportunity allows.  
3\. Do something nice for yourself, like have a hot chocolate or watch a show you like, at least three times a week.  
4\. Say please and thank you, you little shit!   
5\. Talk to your friends.  
6\. Keep making lists if they help you.  
  


“Talk to my friends about what?” he asked, locking the journal and putting it inside his hoodie and zipping it up. This one was dark green, and one David had gotten him.   
  
“That’s up to you. Just don’t forget to let them be there for you, Max.”   
  
“...I don’t think they would understand.”

“Maybe not, but they care about you and that’s what they’ll lead with. It doesn’t have to be today,” she tucked his hair behind his ear, the way she did more often now whenever he was upset. It was nice. “It can be, but it doesn’t have to be.”   
  
“What if I can’t change, though? What if I just keep being the same shitty person I’ve always been? These things aren’t me, Gwen. I’m a fighter, I want to be a fighter, I like that part of me.” He really did. There were few parts of his identity that he was proud of but that was one of them. A rebel and a survivor, who answered to no one but himself. The direct opposite from the meek obedient victim he was in his father’s house.    
__   
“Don’t stop being yourself. That isn’t what you need. Try to be your best self, the one that makes you happiest.”    
  
He looked up at Gwen, as she smiled down at him proudly and rested her hand on his cheek. He stiffened up when she leaned down and kissed his forehead. He could remember his mother doing that some times, on good days, but usually in the form of some apology. It had always felt empty and meaningless, but from Gwen, it was warm and he felt the love she was trying to convey through it. It took everything not to tear up. He really, really just wanted to stay with her but she was right and he knew it. Nobody would let it happen. “I like that part of you, too, Max. Hey, guess what?”   
  
“What?”   
  
“CPS looked for some medical records on you for your foster parents, and Doctor Herrera helped out. They found your birth records in Portland. Want to know when your birthday is?”

  
“Is-- is that a thing now? Like, do my foster parents do birthdays?”   
  
“Sure do. I already scheduled off work and school to be there. Only for the cake, though.”   
  
He smiled a tiny bit, as she ruffled his hair. “Okay, okay, when is it?”   
  
“November eighteenth. You’re a Scorpio baby. Pretty cool coincidence, right?”   
  
“Horoscopes are bullshit,” Max rolled his eyes but he felt a little bit excited. That wasn’t that far away. And Gwen would be visiting that soon? He could make it until then. He climbed down off of her desk, and put his hands comfortably in his pockets. He was about to leave without saying goodbye, which was usual for him but he remembered the to-do list and turned back to her. “Thanks, Gwen.”   
  


Once he was outside of the cabin, his gaze settled on the treetops that surrounded the expanse of Sleepy Peak. And despite his fears of the future, he was glad he wouldn’t have to give up the view.    
  
  


* * *

  
  


It was probably the most awkward silence ever shared between the three of them.    
  
Max decided if he was going to be starting a new chapter in his life, he wanted to make a goddamn effort about it. He wanted to separate himself from the past, and that meant trying to do things differently. He was going to be strict about following Gwen’s advice.   
_   
_ _ “Don’t stop being yourself. That isn’t what you need. Try to be your  _ ** _best _ ** _ self, the one that makes you happiest.” _   
  
He was going to try to make her proud of him by checking a big one off the list.   
  
Neil and Nikki sat on either side of him, on their usual bench near the lake. Nikki had been trying to show him how to skip a rock, at least until the conversation inevitably turned. They had known something was up with him for the last few weeks, in and out of the hospital, being distant and moodier than usual, and Neil admitted he knew Max kept leaving their tent at night.  _ “We’re worried about you, Max. I know you keep leaving the tent in the middle of the freaking night and I know you hate talking about that kind of stuff but maybe…” _ _   
_   
_ “I get nightmares,”  _ was what he blurted out in a panic and it opened the floodgates.   
  
They sat in horrified silence as he bit by bit told them how David and Gwen let him stay at their cabin when he had them. That it was the only thing that helped him feel safe anymore. He told them what the nightmares were about, in as much detail as he could handle before his chest felt tight and his eyes stung with those tears he knew would come. He hated that even now, so far away after so much had changed, that his father still affected him. That he had the power to make him the same pathetic, scared kid that never fought back.    
  
He told them how his mom locked him in his room and that was why his bear was so important, because when you’re alone for days on end you go a little crazy and you need to talk to something to take the edge off. He told them anything that came to mind, because it was like running down a steep hill. He had to just keep the pace so he didn’t fall and eventually it would be over and the momentum would be gone.   
  
“David and Gwen found out,” his voice was wavering and he closed his eyes, sucking in a breath through his teeth.  _ Don’t. Fucking. Cry _ . “And they reported it. I’m-- I’m like...in the system now, I guess.”   
  
“But that’s good, right?” Neil asked nervously, as Nikki sat down next to Max. “The cops can arrest your parents.”   
  
“Nah, that’ll never happen. They won’t find them and my dad would be out of jail within hours.”   
  
“You can come live with me,” Nikki said, elbowing him gently. “My mom wouldn’t care. We could have bunk beds and you can help me finish my tree house. Just gotta started on the booby-traps.”   
  
That made Max smile. “Thanks, Nik, but I’m okay. They already found me a foster home; I get to stay in Sleepy Peak. But now I’ll actually have internet and stuff, so I’ll be able to talk to you guys.”   
  
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Neil made the  _ hold on  _ gesture with his hands, “Are you saying that you wouldn’t have had it with your parents? Like, summer would end, you’d go home and--”   
  
“You’d never hear from me again? Yep.” Max wanted to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal, but it had been a gnawing fear for him for so long. They would think he had abandoned them or the worst had happened, and they wouldn't have been entirely wrong. But as he tried to push down the guilt, it just came up like a bad breakfast. “It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you guys! I trust you, __ I really do , it’s just that…”   
  
“Max, it’s okay. I would be pretty scared, too.” Nikki was just smiling at him reassuringly, not a hint of anger in her eyes whatsoever. Neil clapped him on the shoulder and added, “And that shit isn’t easy to talk about. No wonder you’re such an asshole.”   
  
His feelings weren’t hurt. No, it was actually kind of funny, Max would give him that and it did help to alleviate his anxiety but just to make sure Neil didn’t get ahead of himself, he turned and punched him square in the shoulder. Just like David taught him, tight fingers and the thumb on the outside. “Takes one to know one!”   
  
“Ow! Your knuckles are so pointy!”   
  
Neil rubbed his shoulder, smiling sheepishly as Nikki hugged Max’s arm just tight enough that he was trapped but not so tight he lost circulation. This time. Max didn’t mind it, he was pretty used to Nikki just being Nikki. “But seriously, you guys aren’t pissed?”   
  
“No! We just want to help. If we can, I mean...we’re here for you, Max.”   
  
“Yeah. Maybe I can help you catch up on school,” Neil offered.    
  
“Oh, shit, that’s right.” He didn’t really think about it until that moment. “I’m going to public school…”   
  
“Let me see that list,” Neil took his pen from his pocket and Max hesitantly handed it to him. “I’ll write down some books for you to read.”   
  
“Do you know any about constellations?”   
  


* * *

  
  
The next few weeks went by so fast.    
  
David tried to make them last, to live in the present as much as he could before he had to say goodbye to all the kids. Their parents would pick them up from the bus drop off, or at least most of them would, and some of them he would see again in a year and some he wouldn’t. He saw how some of them got a tiny bit taller or their hair grew or all the other little changes they went through over the three months of adventure he and Gwen pioneered them through.   
  


It was a feeling he was very familiar with. The mixture of pride and bittersweet sadness that was unique to late summer sunsets and the last of the fireflies before they were gone, before he gave up the bandanna and camp shirt until the next time.    
  
But it was different. He had a new sense of direction. He was going to be a teacher, helping kids learn to read music and organizing school sings and such. He had waited and hoped for years for a dream to become real and it was just weeks away. And maybe, he would see Max walking the halls of that school, making new friends and new shenanigans. They planned to make every Sunday their day. If they visited or called, it depended on that week but it was the deal David struck with him.   
  
He had realized it a few days ago, the inevitable truth of the matter and it was something small that did it, but wasn’t that normally the case?

Max had taken off his bracelet for an art activity, not wanting to get clay on it and when it was done, he had been struggling to get it clipped again with one hand. David didn’t know until he marched up to his counselor, held his hands up with an irritated expression and those big green eyes and demanded, “Help.” in a flat voice.    
  
The truth was that David couldn’t say goodbye to Max. He was an irreplaceable part of his life, and the idea of having to switch from seeing him and taking care of him every day to seeing him once a week was unbearable. They had gone through so much together, and he cared about that kid like…   
  
Well, like his own. And it was a terrifyingly overwhelming thought.   
  
David had studied child development and related subjects in college for his teaching degree, he had worked with kids for years and he loved it, but parenting was an entirely different matter. It made his hands shaky and his mouth dry and his heart beat fast to think about the daunting experience, the possibility of failing and no one would suffer for it more than Max.    
  
But then he thought about how he could soothe his nightmares, get him to eat all of his dinner and the way it felt to make that kid laugh for once. To know that because of the things David did for him and taught him, he was safer and happier for it.    
  
So he called his case worker, and they sat down to talk, and she laid out his options. After an adjustment period with his first foster family and if he could get things in order for it, he could foster Max for six months. If by the end he still wanted to continue caring for him, the household would be evaluated and he would have the opportunity to adopt him officially. Having a steady, upstanding job as a teacher helped and he had savings from over the years and an inheritance to fall back on, so finances weren’t a problem as long as he was smart and if he absolutely had to, Granda would help. But David seriously would do his best to avoid that kind of a shitshow, even if things were a little better between them. The case worker assured him he fit almost all of the requirements.   
  
But did he have a place for a child to _ live?  _ His little apartment wouldn’t cut it. 

It was Saturday. The campers did their own activities on the weekend unless it was a special occasion, and that gave David a chance to go into town if he wanted. As he turned the bend down the rural road, the gravel and dirt grinding quietly under the wheels and the light flickering through the tree branches above, he felt butterflies in his stomach. He hadn’t been here in so long.    
  
That week, David finally bit the bullet and started the process of moving out. Half of his things were in boxes, which weren’t much, and with two or three trips it would be done. He could feel his heart in his throat as he pulled up in front of the familiar two story farmhouse. Of course it was right where he left it, it wasn’t like it could go anywhere.   
  
The ivy covered brick on the west side of it and the tall chimney, the wrap-around porch with the now broken swing he used to sit on with his mother. For a moment, he could swear he saw her there. Red hair shining in the sunlight, rocking them back and forth as they ate peanut butter and honey sandwiches and listened to the radio while he talked to her about his day after school.   
  
“ _ Mhac na galla _ ,” he muttered, putting his head down on the steering wheel. It hit him like an avalanche.    
  
It was an empty house.  **Empty** . There was nothing here. It was beautiful and it was where he grew up, where his happiest and worst memories were, but he  _ hated  _ it for it. It didn’t get to be beautiful. Not when his mother didn’t live there anymore.

  
But he had been ready for this. David sat back in the seat with a few slow breaths, until he finally turned off the car and got out. Every step up the creaking porch was a challenge and he shakily put the key in the lock. The sign on the door read  **PRIVATE PROPERTY: TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED** in blaring red letters. He decided to leave it up while he worked, just in case. There had been instances over the years of kids throwing rocks at the windows or one or two break in attempts.    
  
Stepping through the front door was like stepping back in time. It opened into a small foyer and he stopped at the archway and ran his hand along the frame, feeling the carvings along it. His name was etched by each line by his mothers’ hand, from when he could sit up on his own until the very last time before she was gone, recording his height through the years.    
  
He smiled, but he could feel wear tears starting down his cheeks. It was clear as day. Giggling and bouncing as she laughed, “Hold still,  _ a bhobain!” _ before she flattened his hair down to get an accurate measure. The house was big, and there was only the two of them, but they made it feel full and cozy with just their joyful personalities.  _ It’s going to feel like that again. Different, but the same. _   
  
The wallpaper needed to be torn down, and he would repaint everything. He would clean the floors and everything top to bottom, make sure the plumbing and electricity was still functioning and there was no mold, then get a fence and security system. It was months of work, but he was willing to do it for Max.    
  
This was what he wanted for him. Happy memories in a home of his own, a chance to have the childhood he deserved and David was going to work to help him find that. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his foster parents, they really were good people. An older couple whose own children were grown up and moved out, that had decided to do good by fostering.    
  
But he had made a promise, and if he got this place in order, it was just a matter of paperwork and he would be his foster parent. And if he didn’t get started on the work now, he would be late getting back to camp.   
  
For the first time in over ten years, David pulled the sheets off the windows and opened them to send out the ghosts and let in the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Gwen, lying to a child. It did make him happy though. Thank you all for your comments! And some are catching on to foreshadowing...I'm so happy with the responses to Rishima's character, I worked really hard on some different concepts for her and I'm glad she came off as multi-faceted as I wanted. I love you all!


	4. Chapter 4

David was always there first, sitting at their designated booth, waiting politely to order until his grandfather arrived. But this Sunday morning, the last before the campers left, he ended up oversleeping and came rushing in well into a half hour past their usual meeting time.    
  
He could see the cane leaning against the booth and the outline of broad shoulders clad in flannel, and he did his best not to run across the linoleum, and dodged a waiter with a rushed, “Sorry!” before he plunked down clumsily into the creaky seat. “Sorry, sorry, I’m here, sorry.”    
  
“Say it one more time, I think I didnae hear you the first three times.” Adaire said, smiling teasingly behind his coffee, the lines deepening around his eyes. “You look like shite. Have you been howling at the moon?”   
  
True to his usual stubborn self, every word was uttered in rapid fire Gaelic.    
  
David politely ordered a cup of tea, taking off his light windbreaker (it was drizzling outside) and turning back to his grandfather. There admittedly was very little resemblance. While David was built like a bean pole, his grandfather was a little shorter than him but stocky, still cutting his own firewood and repairing his own property while he was getting pushing seventy. He had sharp, dark grey eyes, more of a defined straight nose and a full salt and pepper beard and mustache, his hair cropped short and neat but receding. And he always had that hardened, almost mean glint to him, like he was a grizzled side character in old westerns he used to watch with David as a child. He had the personality to match, too.   
  
“I don’t believe in werewolves anymore, Granda.” David replied in English, and he got a raised eyebrow. Pushing down the inner thirteen year old who wanted to roll his eyes and sigh towards the ceiling, he switched to Gaelic as well.  _ Old fashioned coot. _ “I just didn’t get much sleep. I’ve been, um...well. Remember that camper I told you about?”   
  
“Aye, the one with the ‘home problems’. You have a  _ reasonable conversation  _ with his da yet?”   
  
If he was his grandfather, he would have problem driven to Portland already and kicked Sunil’s teeth in. But David was effectively  **not ** like his grandfather and went a great deal out of his way to be such. “No. It’s been sorted out legally, but he still has a lot to recover from and he’s really having trouble sleeping. Nightmares, mostly. Some of the time he comes to stay with us in the counselor cabin. Last night I was up just trying to get him to calm down after a bad dream but he really was in a state and I didn’t think he’d ever fall back asleep...” David rubbed one eye with a wince, almost feeling like he might cave and get a coffee after all. “I don’t know if I’m very good at helping him.”   
  
“Well, what is it you do?”   
  
“Sometimes I walk him around the camp, even took him for a drive once and that worked but I didn’t want to make a habit of it. I sing to him a lot, he almost always wants that. He likes Chì Mi Na Mórbheanna. Mostly I just tuck him into bed and he conks out if I sit with or hold him. Doesn’t always work, but he’s more upset if I _don’t_ do it, so…”   
  
He trailed off as he felt his grandfather  _ staring  _ him down.  _ Blink. Do you ever blink? Please blink.  _ “He sleeps in your bed after bad dreams?”   
  
“Yeah…?”   
  
“You read him stories and sing him lullabies and shite?”   
  
“Language, Granda.”   
  
“_Hmph_. Don’t worry none, you’re doing fine. All a kid ever wants after a bad dream is to know they’re watched over by the right person, and he’s got that. Over time, he’ll learn how to cope. You did,” he gestured to him with his mug and David looked down doubtfully. True, the nightmares eventually receded and as he got older, it was easier to deal with them. But it didn’t make it any easier to watch Max undergo the process. “I just hate seeing him that way…”   
  
Adaire sat back as the waiter stopped by and topped off his coffee, then spoke again when they walked away. “Tell me a lil’more about this kid.”   
  
It seemed harmless enough. David idly stirred sugar into his tea, thinking about where to start. “You’d get along, probably. Sharp tongues and all that, I think he could really give you a run for your money.”   
  
“Ha! I’d like to see him try.”   
  
_ I don’t think the world is ready for that.  _ “He’s smarter and tougher than I am. Braver too, I think. And he really tries to hide it, but he’s a sweetheart. He just sees things for how they are, and he’ll certainly tell you. I’m...I’m really proud of him. Max is a great kid, he deserves a family that appreciates him. Anyone would be lucky to have him.”   
  
“...And you’re not that anyone? You’re old enough, you’ve got money and a job, why don’t you foster him?” His grandfather cut straight to the point, as always.    
  
“Th--that’s a  _ mighty big step _ from a camp counselor, Granda!” He felt uncomfortable just how easily he always guessed what he was up to. He didn’t expect him to just outright suggest it. In fact, he expected a lecture on how he was too young and had no experience and it was a terrible idea. He felt like this was a test, and he wasn’t going to divulge his intentions before he was certain Granda was  _ actually  _ supportive. “What do I know about parenting?”   
  
“I’d say you’ve got two very good examples of what to do and what not to do called Mum and Dad. Besides, if that kid loves you and you love him and you’re gonna put what’s best for him first-- it’ll be hard to fuck it up.”   
  
David muttered behind his own cup, _ “Take your own advice, why don’t you…?” _ _   
_   
“What was that?”   
  
“Nothing. Look, Max is kind of in a delicate balance right now. Too many big changes will stress him out and he’s been placed with a good family. You know Chief Teabloom and her wife? They’re always fostering kids AND finding them good homes. No one better to help him transition out of a bad situation.”   
  
“Aye, I know Aster. I knew her before you were born, you think she’s a tough old bird now, you should’ve seen her forty years ago. That woman has the wrath of  __ God  in her bones. And her wife is a dear, always saves the best flowers to bring to your mother.”

  
  
David only knew so much about Sleepy Peak’s police chief. The things people said about her, the stories of heroism and all she had gone through in her hard life, they meant almost nothing to him. He knew her as a close friend of his family, and his childhood was dotted with memories of her visits. One stood out in particular.   
  
His first  **real ** fight. It was foggy even now, like all the memories that followed after David saw pure  _ red _ and a feral part of his mind took control. He just remembered some kid (that he now pitied) mouthing off, who had the goddamn  _ audacity  _ to say “ **Get over it** ,” when he had a mother and father to go home to. And then he remembered bone crunching under his knuckles, hellbent on turning that caving in that stupid smirking mouth so he couldn’t say something so wretched ever again. He might have, but someone called the police.   
  
And like the idiotic sixteen year old he was, he sat in the police station as someone patched up his broken lip and checked him for broken ribs, not knowing the police chief was talking down angry parents from pressing charges on his behalf. And when she had succeeded, she let him stew until night and then drove him home at the end of her shift, humiliatingly in the back of her police car.    
  
Then she gave him some very sound advice.  _ “You want to know what your mother told me when she was fixing this up?”  _ and she waved her left hand for him to see. Most people knew that Chief Teabloom was missing her thumb and pointer finger, but very few knew why. David still didn’t know, either.  _ “She said that the bravest thing I could ever do in my life is to  _ ** _choose_ ** _ to be kind in a world full of insensitive, asinine bastards.” _ _   
_ _   
_ And he sank in the seat, wanting to hide his black eye and bruised face, knowing Granda would tear him a whole new one when he got home. He muttered he didn’t know what she was talking about, which was a lie, but then she retorted with hitting the brakes and he got a much deserved dig in his sore ribs by his seat belt. While he clutched them and wheezed, she ripped into him with all the fury a tiny north English woman could muster.  _ “It means don’t be a little twat! Your mother, God rest her soul, didn’t raise a moron whose first thought is to start throwing punches! Don’t you disrespect her!” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “He did it first! He said--” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I don’t give one bloody rat’s arse what  _ ** _he _ ** _ said or  _ ** _he _ ** _ did first! This isn’t about him, it’s about  _ ** _you_ ** _ . Now he deserved one good smack, but you took it too far. You have to know when to stop, Davey. When it’s over, it’s over.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Where do you get off telling me how to live my life?! How the hell would you understand what it’s like?”  _ he spat at her. He hated being preached at back then. He never heard the words, he only heard opposition and that was all it took to rile him up. Everyone wanted to talk, but no one wanted to listen.  _   
_ _   
_ _ “Because my husband is resting two rows behind your sweet mother.” _ _   
_ _   
_ And then he really felt like the asshole he was. It knocked sense into him more effectively than any hand could, and he was effectively silenced for the rest of the drive. She pulled over two houses down from his grandfather’s house as he broke down sobbing in the back seat, hating his anger, hating that stupid kid and hating what he had done to him. Hating  _ himself  _ for being alive and squandering it. She let him cry it out, gave him napkins for his tears and walked him up the front porch. And when Granda yanked the door open and got ready for the lecture, she silenced him with one raised hand and the words,  _ “Already done, Adaire. Just put the poor boy to bed.” _ _   
_ __   
The following Saturday, she gave him her shortbread recipe and told him in no uncertain terms that he was going to get it right. He brought cookies to the boy he had nearly put in the hospital and they were friends through the rest of high school. 

  
  
David winced as he rubbed his temple, feeling a tension headache coming on. He needed rest, but he didn’t think he would sleep any better when Max was living somewhere else. He would just be up worrying. “Maybe helping out around the flower shop would be good for him and he’ll like the flowers.” He knew Max wanted to hide his interest in nature, but he saw him reading an botany book the other day.    
  
“You should get some flowers and visit your mom, Davey.”

  
“You know I can’t stand graveyards.”   
  
“Gotta pay your respects somehow.”   
  
When Adaire was right, he was right; David had gone too long without visiting her. “I am, in a way. I’m fixing up our house.”   
  
His grandfather went dead silent, as their omelettes were set down in front of them and David broke the silence by thanking the waiter politely. He knew it was probably a shock. He went from running away in the forest to stay in his mother’s old room to not setting foot in the place since he was eleven years old. It was boarded up and forgotten, until now. “It’s a house for a  _ family _ , Granda. It’s not fair to just let it rot. And I know you don’t want me to change anything about it, b-because it was stuff Mom picked out but it’s a new beginning for--”   
  
“It’s alright, Davey.”    
  
His grandfather was rarely so soft spoken, and it was more jarring than when he yelled. He flinched as a weathered, calloused hand reached across the table and awkwardly but affectionately patted his own. “I’m proud of ya. And I cannae wait to see what you do with the place. It’s yours as much as hers. You let me know if you need help, got it?”   
  
“I...I need to put a fence up. It’s cheaper to buy the materials and do it on my own, but I don’t really  _ know  _ how to build a fence.”   
  
“I can teach you to do that. You just call and tell me when to be there.”   


* * *

  
  
  
“Pick a color.”    
  
“I thought you hated knitting--” Neil started and Max shushed him and more pointedly jabbed the box of multicolored strings at him. “Pick. A. Color. Asshole.”   
  
While Neil rolled his eyes and did so, he heard the loud snapping and huffing of Nikki climbing up the tree above them. “ _ MAX! I’M ALMOST AT THE TOP!” _ _   
_   
“That’s great, Nikki,” he said idly, taking the one Neil picked and starting to separate out the necessary amounts of colored string. “Just be careful, it’d be pretty fucked up if you broke your neck on the last day of camp.”   
  
“Ha! It really would.”   
  
It was just the right combination of muscle memory and conscious effort to start weaving the threads together. He didn’t bother to correct Neil that this was  _ macrame _ , not knitting, and was completely different. Neil laid down on his stomach in the grass, opening his book up and starting to read out loud where they had left off. It was called  _ Dandelion Wine _ , and had been sent to him by his dad. They weren’t going to finish it by the end of the day, but it was one of many Neil had handed down to him to keep. It would stay with Max after they were gone.   
  
It was a story that was nostalgic and complicated, told in installments by the point of view of many different people but together it formed one constant theme; the indescribable essence of summer.    
  
He tightened the first bead into place. He had a supply of wooden ones all different sizes, and he had painstakingly etched two designs into each side of three of them. Each had a scratching of a pine tree, and this one had a moon on the other side. There was another with a star, and another with a sun.    
  
__ “ 'No matter how hard you try to be what you once were, you can only be what you are here and now. Time hypnotizes. When you're nine, you think you've always been nine years old and will always be. When you're thirty, it seems you've always been balanced there on that bright rim of middle life. And then when you turn seventy, you are always and forever seventy. You're in the present, you're trapped in a young now or an old now, but there is no other now to be seen.’ “  Neil narrated smoothly. Max wondered how he read out loud so easily. When he tried, it was just a disaster.

_   
_ He started on the next one. Max didn’t need to ask Nikki what color she wanted, he knew her favorite was red. Bright and energetic, just like her. She got the bead with the sun and when he was finished, he looked up. “Nikki! Get down here!”    
  
He didn’t know how he didn’t see her through the leaves until she was just there, dangling upside down hands-free like a monkey, pigtails trailing towards the ground. “Boop,” she said, poking them each in the nose. He clenched his jaw to avoid smiling as he stuck the bracelet in her face and she took it with a starry eyed smile, “Did you make this?!”   
  
“Yeah...?”   
  
“I love it!”    
  
Before he could really react, she let go of the branch with her legs and he panicked and tried to reach out to catch her but she just hit the ground in a ragdoll fashion, looking very pleased with herself. It must have hurt a little, but she just sat up clumsily with a grin and slid it onto her wrist. Neil stopped reading to look at her and said, “You’re like a cockroach. I bet if we hit you with some radiation, it would just tickle.”   
  
“Let’s try it!”   
  
“ **No** .” Max deadpanned, and threw the yellow bracelet at Neil. It bounced off his hair and he picked it up curiously. “I get one?”   
  
“You’re  _ welcome _ .”   
  
“Where’s yours?” Nikki asked, and Max self consciously reached into his pocket to produce a blue version, this one with the star charm. “I, uh…”   
  
“Put it on!”   
  
“You don’t think it’s dumb? I don’t know how to make anything else, so--”   
  
“The point is that we all wear ours,” Neil insisted.   
  
With the two of them staring him down, Max finally slipped his own on, above the paracord. He kind of liked the idea of starting a collection. They laid down in the grass around him and after a moment, he laid down too, so they were all looking up into the same circle of tree tops. Cicadas distantly crooned their up-down songs, and he spotted a little bird on one of the higher branches. A white underbelly, ruby head and tilting its head to and fro as it trilled a song. Nikki pointed up at it and said, “That’s a chipping sparrow.  _ Chipchipchip!” _ She did her best imitation of its song, and Max couldn’t help but covered his face in second hand embarrassment, despite his smile.    
  
“So I googled your foster parents.” Neil said after a while, and took out his phone.   
  
Max’s stomach turned. “Why’d you do that?”   
  
“Maybe because I don’t want you to end up with some hillbillies who’ll put you in an oven, I don’t know.”   
  
“I think I’m too bony to be a pot pie yet. Candy first.”    
  
“Not a bad way to go,” Nikki agreed.   
  
“ _ Anyway _ , they have a pretty present public reputation, or at least one of them does. Chief of Police, Aster Teabloom.”   
  
_ Teabloom can’t be a real name _ , he thought. The wheels turned in Max’s brain and then clicked. Once they did, he felt his face burn red hot as he sat straight up with an enraged yell, “ _ A fucking cop?!” _ _   
_   
“Whoa!” Nikki leaned over to look at Neil’s phone, “I want her to adopt me!”   
  
"She's not _adopting_ me, she's _fostering_ me." Max dared to steal a peek. It was quite an old picture, but it showed a young adult woman with her hair tied back in a neat bun at the base of her head, short in stature and holding a bow. An archery bow, straight up drawing an arrow on it.  _ Sleepy Peak Archery Squad tournament, first place.  _ That was the caption under it. “Let me see that,” he said quietly and Neil gave him the phone.   
  
He scrolled through the wikipedia page on her, skimming mostly the pictures. There were only so many pictures, since it was mostly a compilation of old news articles and reports, but in one picture she was being awarded a medal of valor in 1985. He read the article explaining it as quickly as he could, muttering it out loud to himself as he processed the information. “Holy shit. Sleepy Peak got taken over by a cult in the eighties!”   
  
“What, like...the same one Daniel was in?” Neil asked.   
  
“I think so? It doesn’t say, but how many cults do we know? She was the head of the task force that helped take it down.” Max handed Neil’s phone back to him and looked back up at the trees. As the sun began to grow low in the sky, the surface of the branches and the edges of the clouds were drenched in molten gold and fire. It was bright in a way that didn’t hurt his eyes, but felt impossible to look away from. He couldn’t help but wonder if there was a reason a police officer was fostering him. To protect him from his dad, maybe? _ David grew up here, maybe he knows more _ .   
  
He took out his phone and scrolled through one of his playlists and put on some quiet music before he set it aside in the grass. Not that he would tell David, but he had started making an effort to find bands and songs he liked. Gwen encouraged him to do ‘mindful’ things to help his anxiety, and one of them was actively listening to music.   
  
_ “Four strong winds that blow lonely, _ _   
_ _ Seven seas that run high. _ _   
_ _ All these things that won’t change, _ _   
_ _ Come what may.  _ _   
_ _ But our good times are all gone…” _ _   
_ __   
“And I’m bound for movin’ on,” he sang quietly under his breath, closing his eyes and just focusing on the weight of the sun on his face. They had spent all this time planning one final adventure. They wanted to go spelunking in the mines and caves, or to make one last trip to Spooky Island, or even pull a few pranks. But in the end, this was what they settled on.   
  
They decided to just be with each other, in the peaceful forest within the safe distance from camp, where their counselors could holler for them to come back when it was time.    
  
He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, the way he usually did when he napped, and did his best not to scratch his nose or react as Nikki kept picking grass blades and sprinkling them on his face and Neil kept reading, for as long as he was able until they heard Gwen calling their names.   
  
Max didn’t want to get up. And he didn’t want to open his eyes, because he was afraid that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to keep it together. The bus was here. Their bags were packed, and he wasn’t getting on it with them. Nikki shook him by the shoulder, and he stayed as he was. “Max, come on, I know you’re not sleeping.” she said and pinched his nose gently. “Maaaax, Max Max Max…”   
  
With a heavy sigh, he sat up and ruffled the grass out of his hair as his eyes adjusted to the light again. “I’m up,” he said dejectedly, twisting his new bracelet around his wrist. Neil marked the page and handed him the book with a concerned face, “Come on, dude. We’ll see each other before next summer. You’ll be here next summer, right?”   
  
“David said he was going to work it out, so…”   
  
“And my mom said we can visit each other for Christmas!”

  
Max was going to miss her crazy bubbliness and Neil’s practicality that was only matched by his neuroticism. They made his life more than bearable, they made it worth waking up each day. They didn’t know how much they meant to him. He didn’t even know how to tell them that they had saved his life and that was absolutely no exaggeration. He loved them, and in a different way than he thought he loved his mom or his bear or strawberry ice cream. He loved them the way that he now understood, for the very first time in his life, someone loved family. Unconditionally and freely. “You assholes better not forget about me,” he said, trying to sound aggressive but his voice was trembling. “I fucking mean it. Because I’m going to miss you so much and if you forget about me, it’s going to make me look like a real moron.”   
  
After plenty of reassurances and Nikki dragging him up by the hand, he finally dragged his feet to camp where everyone was lining up for the bus and getting on, as Gwen took role call. But Max wasn’t going.   
  
He bit the inside of his cheek to keep a straight face as Nikki squeezed him in a trademark strait jacket hug and for once, he actually hugged her back. Although awkwardly; she was lifting him off the ground. And because Neil was taller, he just got outright tackled. Max respected Nikki’s strategy selection.    
  
The last he saw of them was them in the very back of the bus, waving at him and pointing to their bracelets. He timidly raised his own and pointed to it as well, watching until the bus turned the corner into the trees and they were gone.    
  
He stood there for a long time, unsure what to do with himself until he felt a hand on his back and he looked up into David’s face. “Come on, kiddo. We can wait for Gwen together.” he said with a gentle smile and offered Max his hand. Max stared at it, surprised that the instinct to smack it away was quiet. He was so  _ tired  _ of being on guard and trying to be more grown up just for survival. He did want to be a kid, just like Gwen said he could be.   
  
So, he took David’s hand and it felt  _ normal _ as he followed him to the fire pit, while the sun traded places in the sky with the stars above them.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If nobody here has read Dandelion Wine, DO IT. You're welcome. I decided to sort of...recycle a character of mine, one of my favorite Dungeons and Dragons PC's, now an NPC in a campaign I run. Hope you're all going to love her, because I sure do.


	5. Final Chapter

“Call me so I know you didn’t crash and die?”  
  
“You’ll be asleep by the time I’m home, gummy bear.” Gwen said, holding him by his cheeks and squishing them gently. Max avoided her eyes but held obediently still as she teased him. _ When did Satan get switched out for ‘gummy bear’? _ “Refusing to hug me goodbye isn’t going to stop me from going. It’s just going to make this more depressing.”   
  
Max groaned loudly and growled, _ “Fine!” _ and let her wrap her arms around him for the last time in a while. Her hand smoothed his hair down, only for each lock it passed over to spring up and stick out in whatever random direction they chose and then he felt her kiss the crown of his head for a long time. He knew he would regret it if he didn’t, so he hugged her back. “I’ve been writing in the journal. Every night,” he said as they let go. “You have to bring me another one when I run out of pages, because I’m going to finish the whole thing. I mean it.”   
  
“You bet,” she said as she stood up and turned to David, who had been awfully quiet. Max knew he was trying his best not to look sad, and he actually felt bad for him. He knew exactly how much it sucked to say goodbye to friends.   
  
“See you in November?” he asked, reaching out to shake her hand. _ Fucking idiot. _   
  
Gwen slapped his hand away and hugged him, burying her face against his shoulder. David was stunned for a second, before he just embraced her back. They swayed slightly back and forth, Gwen’s quiet, “See you in November.” confirmation cut off by the announcement for her flight to Sacramento.   
  
They let each other go with a painfully obvious reluctance. They couldn’t see her off at the boarding gate, but they did watch her plane take off through some big windows. He watched through blurry eyes as it ascended and then look up at David, who was still watching with a kicked puppy expression. He blinked his own bittersweetness away and reached up to yank on his sleeve, “Hey. I want a hot chocolate.”   


* * *

  
  
  
David triple checked that both his and Max’s things were fully packed, and made his final round about the camp to ensure all the facilities were shut off, everything was locked and he hadn’t forgotten anything else before putting the place to rest for the summer. While he did, Max was supposedly also getting ready for bed.   
  
He carefully folded the flag and stored it in the utility shed, and by that time it was nearly dark. Already the days were becoming shorter, with the shift of the season. In three weeks, he started his new job as a teacher, which still put butterflies in his stomach whenever he thought about it. He kept worrying if the kids would like him or if he would get along with his coworkers, all kinds of silly worries that persistently cycled through his head. He wished he had Gwen to talk to about it, but she was likely just getting off the plane, if it had even landed yet.   
  
But the biggest change to come was that in the coming day. Max was going to meet his foster moms.   
  
Now that David knew who they were, he felt much more at ease. Aster Teabloom was someone he respected a lot, and was the closest thing he had to an aunt. She had gone to school with his mother, and his father served on the force with her, at least until he left. She always said he was a mixed bag of a man; not cruel enough to be bad, not moral enough to be good. But she was the only source of unfiltered information on his father David had growing up, since he avoided ever talking to his mother about him.   
  
Sometimes he asked her things like did he look like his father, did he like music like they did or such things. His mother would do her best to answer, but then she would get a misty sparkle in her eyes the way she did when she was trying not to cry and he would stop. Over time, he just didn’t ask anymore.   
  
But Chief Teabloom would regale him with stories of myth and past over late night fires or fishing trips or camping in the forest around his grandfather’s cabin. She was very plain about how she would receive Peter if he ever came back after leaving his mother how he did. She didn’t specify with words, but her hand was on her service weapon, so David got the message. 

_ “I will say this about Peter, though. He was a survivor,” she said, pointing at him over the flames of a campfire, as the kettle began to whistle on the spit. “And he knew when he was out of his depth.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Survivor of what?” David had asked. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “That’s another story. Pour the tea, would you?” _ _   
_ _   
_ He finished clearing the ashes from the firepit in the middle of camp and headed back to the cabin, just as Max was coming out of the bathroom in the second set of pajamas Gwen had bought him, dark blue with little polar bears all over. _ Aww. _ “Hey, David,” he said, starting to climb into bed but David noticed something and stopped him by the shoulder.   
  
“What?” Max demanded, wiping a drop of water off his cheek.   
  
“You can’t go to bed with wet hair, you’ll get sick.”   
  
“That’s a myth, like how rain gives you a cold.” the boy rolled his eyes and pulled back the covers.   
  
“It is _ not _ , that’s how kids get ear infections, and Aster went to medical school, so you aren’t going to get away with it in her house either.” David said firmly, plucking Max up by under his arms, despite how the boy immediately kicked and yelled indignantly. It was almost exactly like picking up a _ vocal _ cat.   
  
He plunked him down in Gwen’s old chair and grabbed a towel, returning just in time to push him back down by the shoulder. At that point, David naturally knew the right balance of tough love for Max. “Stay put.”   
  
“Whatever, camp man.”   
  
But Max did sit still as he gently toweled off his thick dark locks for him, gently so the curls didn’t snag and hurt him. After a little while, he dared to pick up a comb and try to get out some of the worst of them. He stopped just short of running the teeth through it.   
  
It was identical.   
  
Rewind sixteen years, switch David into Max’s place and his mother into his, and it was like a spot the difference picture. He didn’t know what to do with that realization, so he just took a silent deep breath and calmly began detangling the squirrel’s nest in front of him. And since Max was so calmly letting him, he got the notion he was too preoccupied to put up a fight. “Brush your teeth?” he asked.   
  
“Yup,” Max said quietly.   
  
“Good. Excited to meet your foster moms? I know them, as it turns out, so you don’t need to worry one bit. I trust them to take great care of you.”   
  
“One of them is the chief of police, right?”   
  
“Actually, yes. How did you know that?”   
  
“Neil googled her name.” Max shrugged, and pulled his feet up onto the chair to get more comfortable. “We found all this news stuff about how Sleepy Peak got taken over by some doomsday cult in the eighties, and she was some kind of like...nationally ranked archer and she helped save the town. She organized a task force or some shit. Why didn’t you tell me all that?”   
  
_ Google, of course. How else _ . “I don’t actually know very much about what happened in ‘84, Max, I wasn’t even _ born _ yet. I just know Aster because she went to school with my parents and she helped raise me a little. She’s my godmother.”   
  
“I don’t really know what a godmother is, actually.”   
  
“Well, when a kid gets baptised,the parents choose someone they trust to present them and take charge of guiding them religiously. And also in most cases, to take care of them should anything happen to their parents.”   
  
“You were baptised?”   
  
“Mmhm.” he could tell Max was uncomfortable. Religion, churches, priests, it all had to be a touchy subject with him. “She didn’t really teach me that much about Catholicism. She made me learn to shoot and set traps and what plants were good for eating, medicine or poison. She’s a really cool lady, Max, she taught me everything about survival and nature.”   
  
“Do you still go to church?”   
  
“No,” David paused. “Don’t tell my grandfather. I mean, he knows, but don’t give him a chance to lecture me about it.”   
  
“Do you _ believe _ in all that stuff? God and heaven and hell. All that shit about sin and atoning.”   
  
He didn’t expect to have this conversation for a long time, but Max was definitely old enough to question it. And David worried about what his impression of religion was because of his father. Nothing to put a person off the concept of faith than a priest that was screwed up in the head. “Honestly, Max, I’m a little turned around on it. I’d like to believe my mother is watching over me, and that things happen for a reason. I think maybe there are higher powers than us, but I don’t assume to know what they are.”   
  
“Higher powers like what? Xemug?”   
  
David laughed a little, “Maybe? All I mean is that the world is...more unexplained than it is explained.”   
  
“Yeah, I don’t get it.”   


David set the comb aside after running it through each section easily one more time, but kept doing it. Max seemed to like it, or at least it kept him calm. “I didn’t when Aster told me.”  
  
“What’s she like?”   
  
“Well... She has a big heart that she shares with everyone. She’s the kind of person that leaves every person and every place better than she found it. And she knows what it’s like to lose people and to have a hard life. She’s just very down to earth, Max, and she was always there when I needed her. I know she’s going to love you.” he said, giving Max’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “Let’s just say you’re both free spirits.”   
  
“Love me…?” He heard Max echo it, in the softest voice that he decided to pretend he didn’t hear. “What about her wife?”   
  
“Victoria? She’s nice, too. Artistic and lively, and runs the florist shop. I don’t know her that well, they’ve only been married for a few years and I don’t see Aster very much nowadays.”   
  
“Why not?”   
  
“No reason, just being busy.”   
  
“How did she stop the cult?”   
  
“How about,” David said, as he lifted Max off the chair and set him on the ground, then steered him towards Gwen’s old bed. “You ask her yourself tomorrow?”   
  
“Goddammit, fine.” Max grumbled, as he climbed up and let David tuck the covers over him and his teddy bear. “Warm enough?” David asked, “I can turn the space heater on if you need it.”   
  
Max sank deeper under the blanket, up to his chin like he wanted to just hide away and David felt sad for him. He remembered that feeling, knowing he would have to sleep in a place he didn’t feel at home for a long time to come. “I’m alright.”

  
“They really are good people, Max. They won’t hurt you.”  
  
Max said nothing. David watched him turn his back on him and curl up around Mr. Honeynuts, silent. He knew that it was the truth, but he couldn’t do anything to make Max believe it. He could only let him find out for himself. “Four days,” he said, gently rubbing Max’s arm. “Then I’ll see you and we’ll catch up on everything.”  
  
“I can survive four days without you, David.”   
  
The words were sharp, but the voice wasn’t. He could tell Max was scared, but he wouldn’t point it out. It was better to let Max deflect sometimes. “I know you can. Sweet dreams.”  
  
He turned out the light and stayed up reading by flashlight until he was sure Max was asleep, and then he finally closed his own eyes.   


* * *

  
  
Max waited until the very last moment to put his bear away into his backpack, as they pulled up in front of a Tudor style house, not very big but it the whole yard lacked any plain grass; it was all garden, full of various statues and plants and even a few small trees, and a little wood picket fence with a gate. He didn’t know Sleepy Peak well at all, but he knew the main street, and guessed they were a ten minute walk away from it. David had pointed out Victoria’s shop on the way, which was right across the street from the pancake house.   
  
“You can hold Mr. Honeynuts if you want to, Max, they won’t make fun of you. I lugged around a stuffed wolf until your age.”  
  
“I’m not going to do that...What’d you name it?”  
  
“Trusty.”  
  
He reluctantly took off his seat belt as David parked in the driveway and went around to get his duffel bag for him. Max felt glued to his seat until David opened the car door, and he heard the chitter of birds going to town on one of the many feeders hanging from one of the trees. “It’s time, kiddo.”  
  
“No,” he didn’t even voluntarily say it. It was just pure instinct, as he slouched in his seat and turned away. This place was beautiful and looked so cozy and welcoming, like a fairy tale house, and everything in him screamed it as a trap. His house in Portland had been nice too, even if he lived in the basement there. He couldn’t do this. “No, no, no, I’m not ready. I want to go back to camp, David--”_  
_  
“You promised Gwen you would give it a chance, and I am _right here_, Max.”  
  
He curled up tightly on the seat, until he heard David slide into the space next to him. He didn’t want someone else to tuck him into bed, he didn’t want anyone else to, and he didn’t want to look out a different window or wait four days to see the one person in the world who always cared. Who was always there, any moment of the day that Max needed him. “I don’t want you to leave me here,” Max confessed, the moment his now former counselor leaned over and hugged him. “David, please don’t leave…”  
  
“I’ll see you Sunday,” his voice was so light, without a trace of fear or sadness. “And between then, you can text and call me all the time.”  
  
“They don’t fucking know me, David! They’re not going to know anything! And I don’t know them either, I can’t live with _strangers.”__  
__  
_“Max, can you look at me? Please?”  
  
He didn’t want to. It felt too confrontational, like it inhibited his ability to fight this thing, however futile it was. Deep down, Max knew it was going to end this way, no matter how much he didn’t want it to. As slowly as possible, he looked up into David’s eyes. They were green, just darker, more cold brown in them than his mother’s. But like always, they had that twinkle of kindness. “I’m going to say some really cheesy stuff, are you ready?”  
  
“Aw, fuck.”  
  
David smiled and rubbed his back gently. It helped to calm him, a little. “Max, you are my whole world and I would never, _ever _leave you here if I thought for a second you wouldn’t be safe or couldn’t be happy. And you bet_ I’m_ going to call you, because I’m going to miss you every _minute _I’m away.”  
  
Max couldn’t help it. He wiggled around so he could hug David, but it was more like a death grip to try and stop him from getting out of the car. “How the fuck are you going to protect me if you’re gone?” he demanded, trying to find some hole in this plan.  
  
“There’s a reason the chief of police is your foster mom, Max. Next question?”  
  
“...Every Sunday? You’re going to come back?”  
  
“I’ll come back.”  
  
Max slowly relaxed his grip. He didn’t want to get out of the car any more than he did five minutes ago, but he would do it. He had to. He promised Gwen and David wanted him to do it, and Max wanted to be brave. So, he followed David up the cobblestone walkway, but he gripped his hand for dear life the entire time. His skin prickled with goosebumps of fear when the door opened and he heard a** boof! **and saw a _hellhound _bounding down the steps. _Shitshitshit! There’s a dog?! Why didn’t anyone say they had a dog?! __  
_  
She was white and brown, and absolutely massive, with floppy ears and a droopy face. The dog stopped on the porch and just repeatedly hopped up and down on her front paws, bellowing her deep yet muted bark as David waved at her, “Hi, Winifred. Brought you a puppy!”  
  
“Shut the _fuck _up, David!”  
  
He heard a voice giggle and looked behind the dog to see two figures. One was a tall black woman, with long corkscrew curls of natural hair with big volume, just starting to gray and smile lines around her lips and eyes. She had dangly feather earrings, bead necklaces and bracelets and wore long, flowy layers. A trailing sweater, a linen shirt and ankle length skirt, all with various colors and patterns. She looked like she had stepped out of an art teacher convention from the 70’s. “Ohhh, look how adorable!” she crooned, as David all but dragged Max up to her. “You have to be Max. You just have the most precious baby cheeks, let me see you, come here!”  
  
“This is why kids think we’re witches, Vicky.” The other woman stopped her by taking her hand.   
  
_That’s gotta be Aster. __  
_  
She looked like the kind of woman who would live in a little cottage in a small town married to someone who sold flowers and wore crystals. She wore a beat up brown leather jacket, a nice autumn orange shirt, worn jeans and hiking boots, but he could see her shoulder had a holster strap and when she reached for her wife’s hand, he saw the holster itself. And the two missing fingers. Her hair, a cinnamon red paling with age, was gathered up in a perfectly round bun at the base of her head with her bangs swept to the side. Her eyes were a dark warm brown, her nose speckled with freckles. They both looked to be in their mid fifties or so.   
  
“Um, Max is a little shy. Can we go inside and then say hello?” David intervened. _Thank fucking God. __  
__  
_“Aye, sure we can. Come along, Winifred.” Aster waved the dog along, who obeyed despite obviously wanting to greet the new people. Max dug his heels in but David just lifted him right over the porch step and he was inside the house before he knew it.  
  
It smelled faintly of incense and black tea, herbal and smoky and it was nice enough. He watched the two women suspiciously as they were lead through the house and to the living room. He looked around subtly at the walls and spotted a graduation picture. A young aster, standing with two young men and a girl with long brilliant red hair and a familiar bright smile, holding their diplomas. The red haired girl looked so familiar…  
  
“Is that your mom?” He asked David, and cringed at how loud his voice sounded.   
  
David followed his gaze, and Max felt a little guilty. Few things were more depressing than a sad David badly faking a smile. “Sure is, kiddo.”  
  
“She...she was really pretty.”  
  
He sat down on the couch close to David, as Victoria brought in wafer cookies and tea, and Aster plunked down in her own chair. Winifred, the monster, was sitting at the base of the couch watching Max with her dumb dog eyes. He sat in utter silence as David and his new foster parents chatted idly. He only participated in the conversation when David prompted him or he was asked something, and even then he could only summon a head shake, nod or shrug.   
  
“Would you like to see your room, Max?” Victoria asked him after a while.  
  
He reluctantly left his space on the couch without an answer, keeping a grip on David’s hand once more as he followed her through the house. And to his surprise, they began to ascend a creaky staircase. His room was on the top floor?  
  
At the end of the hallway, facing the back of the house, Victoria opened a door that lead into a decently sized room, with two windows that had sheer white curtains. There was a cozy looking bed with a red down quilt, a wooden dresser and some bookshelves and a chest at the end of the bed, even a desk. There weren’t really any decorations, but there were books on the shelves and plenty of pillows on the bed, and the wallpaper was patterned with sunflowers. It had character, and it looked lived in. Not barren and hostile like the room he grew up in.   
  
“You can put up posters and knick knacks,” Victoria said. “You can do whatever you like, Max, it’s all yours for as long as you’re here.”  
  
Max silently walked towards the window and moved the curtain, flinching at the light that came through it. Just to see, he slowly tried to open it and his heart jumped when it gave. It wasn’t locked or painted shut. The fresh air came through instantly. He couldn’t stop breathing it, couldn’t stop looking out it.   
  
“Can you give us a minute, please?”  
  
David’s voice was muffled, but he heard the door open and shut. Max flinched out of his trance when David took him by the shoulders and slowly turned him around. Every time Max blinked, he saw the concrete walls and floor, the flickering naked light bulb above, the uncovered mattress. There used to be better conditions, but his father stripped them away over the last few years. Because Max didn’t deserve them.   
  
He heard David talking to him, but just the sound, not the words. Not until David touched his cheek and rubbed his thumb over it and he finally looked up at him and David smiled in relief. “Hi, little bear.”  
  
He tried to talk, but it was like he had clay stuck in his throat, so he gestured vaguely to the window. He didn’t even know himself why he was so upset. “Are you okay if I leave for a minute? Just a minute,” David said. “I’ll be right back.”  
  
Max nodded stiffly, but he hated every step David took that got quieter and quieter. It felt like an eternity until he got back with his luggage and set them down and started opening everything. He watched David, confused, until the man waved him over and handed him the quilt. “You know where this goes, don’t you?”  
  
He didn’t understand until halfway through. David kept handing him his things, and bit by bit, Max placed them where he wanted them to be. Quilt and bear on the bed, clothes in the dresser, shoes by the door, his half of the spirit stick on the book shelf and so on. Then, he helped David move the bed so it was against the window wall. It took about an hour to do and when they were done, they sat by the window together. Max felt a little better, but he knew why David was so quiet now.   
  
He heard him take a breath to speak and Max cut him off, “Don’t.”  
  
_No more goodbyes. I’m at the fucking limit_.   
  
He slouched forward with his face in his hands, watching out of the corner of his eye as David picked up his teddy bear. “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, as David proceeded to give it a genuine hug, before handing it back. “A hug from me to you,” he said cheerfully. “Just in case you need one when I’m away.”  
  
“Oh my god, that’s so stupid. You’re such a fucking dork, I hate you.” Max half laughed, half sobbed it.   
  
Then the time came. He didn’t budge from his spot as David got up and walked away, and he didn’t budge when Aster came knocking and asked through the door if he needed anything. When he didn’t answer, she peeked in and asked if he just wanted to be alone, to which he nodded. Victoria brought his dinner up to him later on, and he was surprised he was allowed to eat in his room and the food was actually good. Who knew he liked sweet potatoes?   
  
That night, he had to put himself to bed, which was fine. Victoria did check on him and tell him they were right down the hall if he needed anything at all, and gave him an extra blanket just in case.   
  
Max plugged in the white noise machine David had gotten him, putting on wind and forest noises, along with the crackling campfire sound. He liked that he could layer them over each other. He made sure to dry his hair properly after his shower, laid out his clothes for the next day and wrote in his journal before getting into his new bed. It was warm and comfortable, and he laid on his side to look out the window at the dark silhouettes of the trees in the distance.   
  
_Four days._ _Just four days. I can do that. ___  
  
He fell asleep at long last, squeezing his teddy bear tight in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you all in the second series!


End file.
